


Why Arthur Hates Dressing Up

by IBK



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: Daddy Dutch, Disguise, Father-Son Relationship, Poor Arthur, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-11 23:08:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17456024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IBK/pseuds/IBK
Summary: Even since the Mayor's gala, Arthur has hated disguises and he knows Hosea and Dutch will never let that night be forgotten.





	Why Arthur Hates Dressing Up

Temper tantrums weren't a common reaction in Arthur's behaviour, but that morning in Saint Denis showed a new rebellious side of Arthur Morgan. 

"But, I don't wanna!" Six year old Arthur cried, as he stomped his feet madly in the small hotel room. 

Dutch was a young man of twenty two standing before his fussy son with his hands glued to his hips and a fatherly scowl across his face. Looking down at his son with his eye brow raised, Dutch was tempted to tan that boy's hide right then and there for the noise he was makin'.

Arthur's face was going red, as he continued to scream and stomp around. The cause of the chaos all started with a disguise. Arthur had wore disguises before and he always stayed in character from a poor stable boy to a young prince, but not today, Arthur was a little brat throwing a fit.

Rubbing his aching temple, Dutch let out a frustrated growl like a mountain lion, "Arthur Morgan that is enough!" He barked. "Hosea and I bust our backs everyday to keep you fed and we expect you to start pulling your own weight, young man!"

Arthur pouted and crossed his arms without saying a word. 

"Listen, son," Dutch stated, as he bent over to face Arthur. "This gala the mayor is holding is gonna bring in a lot of money and we need money."

Arthur stayed quiet.

"And I'm to be expected with my child by my side," Dutch's voice changed into his sweet and tender tone, as he put his hand on Arthur's small shoulder. "I need you to do this for me, son."

Without warning, Arthur smacked Dutch's hand away with a hard slap, as he turned his back. Dutch stood up straight shocked at his son, but was quickly overwhelmed with an unspoken fury, as he reached for the buckle on his belt.

"Why you disrespectful-"

Suddenly,Hosea stood up from the bed he was resting on and put a calming hand on Dutch's heated shoulder. Hosea was the calm one in his thirties and saved Arthur's backside from Dutch's short temper more times than the three of them combined could count.

"Easy there, Dutch, easy," Hosea hummed, patting Dutch on his tense shoulder. "Let me talk to him."

Dutch threw his hands up and backed away before he lit a cigar and stared out the small window in their room. As Dutch moved on, Hosea slowly got on one knee which cracked on the way down and he cleared his throat.

"Arthur," Hosea said softly trying to get the boy's attention. "Look at me Arthur."

Arthur hesitated, but the boy slowly turned to face his adoptive father with a troubled look in his eyes. Hosea gave the boy a small smile, as Arthur's eyes met his.

"I don't like dressin' up Hosea," Arthur mumbled, as he eyed his disguise that was planned out on the foot of the bed. "I don't like it."

"I know you don't like it, but this is important and we all need to be in character."

"But, it's a dress!" 

It was true, Dutch had caught the mayor's eye when he strolled into town with his decorated carriage and high class appearances. He had easily convinced the mayor of his new wealth in the oil business and how he recently became a window which left him with a young daughter.

"Now, don't be like that," Hosea said. "It will be an easy job Arthur we'll walk in and out, easy."

Arthur huffed in protest and turned away, but Hosea was quick to move and grabbed the boy's underarm before he could walk away. 

"You're the perfect actor, Arthur. You have a talent I've never seen in a boy your age," Hosea chuckled, catching the boy's eye. "Who tricked that officer to give up their golden pocket watch?"

Arthur went quiet again.

"Who convinced a coachman to abandon his carriage full of jewelry?"

Arthur looked down, as a tiny smile began to appear. Hosea was getting close.

"Who scared off all those farm hands covered in flour pretending to be a ghost?"

Seeing the boy hiding his smile, Hosea gave Arthur's stomach a gently poke which made Arthur release a squeal of delight, as he grabbed Hosea's arm. 

"Me! Me!" Arthur giggled, as he jumped with excitement. "I did!"

Joining in the laughter, Hosea and Arthur touched foreheads, as Arthur continued to hold onto Hosea's arm. 

"I know you can do this, Arthur," Hosea whispered, as Arthur moved in closer. "Both of us know you can do this."

Pulling back, Arthur suddenly nodded, as his smile got bigger, "I'll do it."

"That's my boy," Hosea praised, as he ruffled Arthur's fluffy brown hair.

Arthur headed for his disguise, but was stopped by Hosea who grabbed his arm and pulled the boy in close. 

"I think you should say something to Dutch, son."

Without a second thought, Arthur waddled across the room quietly on his toes fearing the older man was still heated. Half way there, Arthur suddenly stopped and looked back at Hosea with worried eyes, as wide as the sea, but when Hosea nodded it gave Arthur the assurance he needed. 

Dutch spotted Arthur in the corner of his eye looking up at him, but didn't look down till he felt a tug on his pants. Arthur's crystal blue eyes shimmered in the early morning light making his puppy dog eyes even harder to resists. Dutch attempted to speak, but was silenced when Arthur attacted himself to Dutch's leg and squeezed him tightly.

Hosea let out a suttle 'aww', as he prepared the final details on Arthur's disguise. Dutch shot the man a look before he looked back down and rubbed the top of the boy's head.

With his face buried in Dutch's leg, Arthur mumbled something that Dutch couldn't understand.

"What was that, son?"

Still holding onto Dutch's leg, Arthur raised his head and looked Dutch right in the eyes, as he mumbled softly and sincerely.

"I love you."

"I love you too, son."

* * *

That night Arthur was transformed from a cowpoke into a sweet southern belle with a light pink dress with ruffles and a hooped under skirt that covered his feet. A bright pink ribbon was tied around Arthur's waist and attacted to his white sun hat. To hide his short brown hair, Hosea had obtained a blond curly wig for the boy to wear that fit his disguise perfectly. Unable to resist the opportunity before him, Arthur did a small twirl and watched his skirt hover and sway, as he spun around carelessly.

Dutch smiled at his boy, as he checked his own attire. Like the gentleman he was, he adjusted his silver bowtie, dusted off his black tailcoat   
and put on his top hat. 

"Are you ready, Arthur?" 

"Uh huh," Arthur giggled, as he played with the ruffles in his dress.

With Hosea waited outside on the carriage as the driver, Dutch held out his hand towards Arthur, "Shall we go to the ball Cinderella?"

Arthur stuck out his tongue, as he held Dutch's hand; the boy's cheeks went red at the sound of that name, but he held Dutch's hand tightly. Dutch escorted his little one to the carriage and placed him inside before closing the door.

The father and son duo sat side by side, as the carriage bounced on every bump and crack in the road. Trying to stay in his seat, Arthur linked arms with Dutch who gladly took the boy's hand.

"Now, what's your name, young lady?"

"Annabelle," Arthur answered quickly, looking up at Dutch. " Annabelle Sinclair."

Dutch smiled and nodded, "Good, very good."

The two smiled at one another till Arthur turned to look out the carriage window at the street lights. Slowly passing the shops and theater, the ride continued with Dutch repeating his plan over and over till the coach came to a halt.

"It's show time, Cinderella," Dutch announced, as he stood up.

"Stop callin' me that," Arthur whined, as Dutch helped him out of the carriage.

Dutch only chuckled, as he nodded to Hosea before he rode off and walked hand in hand with Arthur towards the Mayor's mansion. A few steps away from the iron gate, they were stopped by a suited gentleman with a revolver in his holster.

"Name sir?" The man mumbled in annoyance, as if he had said that same line a hundred times already.

Clearing out his throat Dutch spoke with his Van der linde charm, "My name is Matthew Sinclair," Dutch gestured down at Arthur. "And this sweet little thing is my daughter Annabelle Sinclair."

The man nodded and unlocked the gate, "The party is in the garden. Follow me, Mr. Sinclair."

Dutch and Arthur were brought into the mayor's home and were directed to the gardenthrough the back where hundreds of well dressed guest mingled and gossiped with one another. Arthur's eyes went wide there were so many people that it frighten the poor boy to a point he froze in place. Dutch surveyed the area from the top of the stone steps shaking his head in disgust.

"Civilization," He growled, as he watched the snob nose, high society talk poorly of one another and brag about their wealth.

Suddenly, a man wearing a well tailored suit and a monocle dashed up the stairs laughing in excitement, "Mr. Sinclair! What a pleasure!"

Dutch spat out a fake chuckle, as he shook the man's hand, as Arthur hid behind him still holding Dutch's hand.

"The pleasure is mine, Mr. Mayor," Dutch lied, as the mayor finally released his hand. "What a beautiful home you have here, sir."

"You can thank the tax payers," The mayor laughed, as a waiter passed with champagne. "Would you like a drink, Mr. Sinclair?"

Unable to say no, Dutch accepted the glass and took a polite sip. As the two men cheered one another, the Mayor suddenly spotted Arthur's blue eyes peeking from behind Dutch.

"And who is this lovely little lady?"

"This is my daughter," Dutch said, as he stepped aside. "Introduce yourself, my dear."

Batting his lashes, Arthur swayed side to side, "My name is Annabelle Sinclair, sir...it's a pleasure to meet you, sir."

With a smile, The Mayor knelt down, grasped Arthur's little hand and placed a wet kiss on his hand, "What perfect manners you have, little lady."

"T-thank you, sir," Arthur stuttered, as he got his hand back.

Dutch didn't look too impressed, but he held his smile, as The Mayor stood up, but continued to look down at Arthur.

"Miss Annabelle if I may, I have two boys who would love to play with you. Would you like that?"

Arthur's mouth fell open nervously, but Dutch quickly stepped in, "That's a very kind offer, Mr. Mayor, but I'd prefer my daughter to stay by my side."

The Mayor chuckled, "Nonsense! They can only hang onto you tailcoat for so long, Mr. Sinclair."

Before Dutch could protest, The Mayor ushered over two young boy's who looked almost ten well dressed with bored looks plastered on their faces. Standing side by side the boys looked the same: brown hair, brown eyes and black suits. It was quite the eerie sight.

"Annabelle, these are my sons Clyde and Floyd," The Mayor introduced, as the boy's nodded. The Mayor turned to his sons, "Boys why don't you play nicely with Miss Sinclair while I talk business with her Father."

The boys looked at one another and scoffed, "Father I will gladly watch over her," Clyde stated, as he adjusted his suit. "But, I'm worried Floyd would try to eat her."

Floyd jumped at the sudden insult, but quickly replied, "Unlike you brother, I am a gentleman and would never do such a thing, but you on the other hand...you would eat an infant."

"How dare you!"

"Ah ha! You only argue because you know it's true!"

"You liar!"

"Fraud!"

"Boot licker!"

"Stepping stool!"

As quick as a viper, The Mayor smacked both of his sons on the back of their heads making them wince in pain before they whined in sync.

"Sorry Father, yes Father."

Standing in silence no one moved.

Sighing deeply, The Mayor pinched his brow in embarrassment, "One of you take her hand like a proper gentleman and help her down the stairs."

Sadly, both boys reached out only to leave Arthur frozen.

"Father was talking to me, Clyde," Floyd hissed, as he smacked his brother's knuckles away.

"No, Floyd, Father said a gentleman, so dear brother he was talking to me."

"You are far from a gentleman, you boar," Floyd insulted, as he stepped closer to Arthur. "Miss Sinclair would rather fall down the stairs than be escorted by you."

"Well, I'm sure she wouldn't want a pathetic weakling like you helping her. You can barely keep your own head up, you pest."

Arthur looked up at Dutch who looked like he wanted to laugh, yet he bit his tongue and gestured with his head for Arthur to make the first move. With rosy red cheeks, Arthur stepped in between the bickering boys and linked arms with both of them, and insisted they walked with him down the stairs.

Both were caught off guard, but followed like loyal horses.

"See brother," Floyd teased, puffing his chest out. "She grabbed my arm first."

"Oh no, dear brother," Clyde denied, shaking his head. "She clearly saw your knees giving out and felt pity for you."

Walking in a dress was difficult enough, but now unable to see his feet or the upcoming steps, Arthur feared for his life. Yet in the middle of their bickering, the two brothers some how managed to get Arthur down the stairs safely.

"Congratulations brother," Floyd huffed, as he helped Arthur down the final step. "For once you didn't completely screw something up."

"Speak for yourself, you clumsy goose," Clyde snapped, as he gestured at Arthur's skirt which was covered with dirt on one side. "You stepped on poor Annabelle's skirt about a dozen times."

Floyd followed his brother's hand and gentle brushed Arthur's skirt, "I did no such thing, Miss Annabelle's dress was soiled by your disgusting presence."

Arthur looked over his shoulder for Dutch, but he was gone, him and the Mayor were no where in sight which made Arthur's heart sink into his stomach. Walking straight into the party Floyd and Clyde completely ignored their guests even when they said hello, but most eyes fell upon the little blushing lady caught in the middle. Pushing their way through the sea of gowns and fast moving waiters, the trio hit a fork in the road and both brothers went in a different directions.

Unable to stretch that far, Arthur yelped in pain, as the boys fell back and nearly clucked heads.

"Floyd you idiot, where do you think you're going?"

"If you must know, I was taking, Miss Sinclair to the swing where she can get away from your smell," Floyd looked at Arthur. "Did you know this creature only bathes twice a month?"

"That is highly false!" Clyde interjected, as he wagged his finger in his brother's face. "You brother are the foul one, and I was taking Miss Sinclair to see Biscuits." Tighten his grip on Arthur's hand, Clyde looked at Arthur with a prideful glare, "Biscuits is my mighty stead and was gifted to me by Father after my poor excuse of a brother got thrown off."

"You mean your pony?"

"He is not a pony, you are!"

Suddenly, Arthur was being yanked.

"I'm sure, Miss Sinclair would rather go on a swing than touch your dirty pony, Clyde."

Losing his grip on Arthur, Clyde yanked on Arthur's other arm, "Once again brother, you are the fool. Miss Sinclair could fall and hurt herself, she is a lady!"

"And a fair lady does not belong in a barn!"

"Biscuits doesn't live in a barn, Floyd, he lives in a stable, but what would you know, you can't even ride a horse."

As the boys continued to tug at Arthur's arms, he could feel his wrists start to burn, as he felt sick to his stomach. Arthur was being shaken so much he almost felt sea sick. The boys fought over Arthur like a toy and the poor boy knew this would only end when his arms fell off.

Remembering what Dutch and Hosea had taught him about calming down a hot situation, Arthur began looking for some sort of distraction. The first thing he spotted was a bit in the distance, but it's sparkling grace caught his attention and he pointed.

"What's that?" Arthur squeaked, as both brothers stopped their argument and followed Arthur's finger.

"That my lady is our mother's fountain," Clyde explained, as Floyd let out a groan.

"She was asking me, you crab apple."

Suddenly, Clyde gave Arthur's arm a hard tug and pulled him out of Floyd's grip, "Now, Floyd, I'll be taking Miss Sinclair to Mother's fountain. Be a good dog and go bother someone else."

"I beg your pardon?" Floyd gasped, as he grabbed Arthur's other arm and pulled them back. "May I remind you brother, Father put Miss Sinclair in OUR care, so I'm not allowing you to kidnap this poor girl."

Just wanting a moment of silence Arthur started walking with the brothers in tow, as they headed for the shining fountain. The splashing water glistened in the white moonlight and reflected off the ivory marble statue in the center of the fountain.

As they moved in closer, the statues shape became clear; surrounded by the calming water was a women sitting on her knees while holding two roses over her heart. Arthur tilted his head trying to understand what he was looking at, but Floyd suddenly opened his mouth.

"You see, its a metaphor, Miss Sinclair," Floyd said, as he gestured to the sculpted women before them. "As you can clearly see, her face is showing true sadness and mourning."

Clyde let out a purposeful loud yawn, as he patted Arthur's hand before he released it, "Of course you couldn't understand this piece of artwork Floyd, your mind is made of mud." Clyde smacked his brother's shoulder before he faced Arthur, "What Mother's statue really explains is the beauty and pain of child birth."

"What!" Floyd gasped, as he was quick to cover Arthur's fragile ears. "Clyde, Miss Sinclair doesn't want to hear the filth coming out of your mouth. Silence yourself."

"The only filthy thing about this is you brother!"

"How on God's green earth did you come up with that idiotic idea?"

Clyde threw his arms up in shock, "Are you joking? How do you not see it? It is a clear as the night sky."

"The fountain was built after Mother's passing, so of course the fountain symbolizes mourning and loss," Floyd stated, gesturing back to the fountain. "Look at the expression on her face, she's clearly upset."

Clyde shrugged his shoulders, "Well, any woman would be upset after giving birth to you."

"Then why did she die after you were born?" Floyd growled, poking at his brother's inflated chest.

Without a word Clyde shoved Floyd who quickly returned the assault, "You horrible insect!" Clyde cried, as he shoved Floyd again closer to the fountain. "How dare you bring that up again!"

"And I gladly bring it up again, you monster!"

Standing back, Arthur couldn't help but let out a laugh, as the brothers pathetic display of a fight moved them closer and closer to the fountain's edge. Floyd threw his arms around like a drunken man caught in a spiders web while Clyde kept trying to slap Floyd. It looked like they were dancing more than anything, but when Clyde's hand finally made contact with Floyd's jaw; they froze.

"You...you," Floyd stammered, as he cupped his wounded cheek. "Bastard!" 

With a growl, Floyd pounced on Clyde who began to stumble backward until they lost their footing and fell into the fountain; sending water flying. Arthur grabbed his skirt and jerked back, as the brothers tussled like gators, ruining their suits and well combed hair.

Arthur couldn't stop laughing, maybe this party wasn't as bad as he thought. Limbs flew in and out of the water, but when the brothers tried to insult one another all that came out were gurgles and coughing.

During the tussle, Arthur could hear a woman fast approaching while crying out.

"Senor Clyde, senor Floyd no pelear!"

A young Spanish maid in a long black dress with a white apron and bonnet ran towards them like there was no tomorrow. Startled, Arthur hid behind a thick rose bush, as the maid was quick to step into the fountain pleaing for them to stop.

"Stop!" She cried trying to get a grip on the boys. "Malos modales, b-behave!"

And just like fish being pulled into a fishing boat, the boys flailed around, as if they couldn't breathe. As Floyd coughed up some water, Clyde tried to regain his vision by moving his hair out of his face.

"You are okay now," The maid said, as he patted Floyd's back, as he coughed continuously. "No f-fight now."

"Shut up, Mariana," Clyde snapped, as he stumbled to get to his feet. "You should have let the beast drown."

"Speak for yourself, you sea cow," Floyd burped, as he pushed Mariana away. "Don't touch me."

Dripping wet, the boys took off their soaked coat and tossed them at Mariana, "Get these inside," Clyde ordered, as he wringed out his hair. "And bring me a towel, now."

"Toalla?" Mariana questioned, as she tilted her head slightly. "One...towel?"

Floyd's face suddenly turned sour, as he raised his hand and struck her across the face; causing her nearly fall over. She started to shake, but she held onto the dripping coats, as her cheek turned red. Arthur covered his mouth with his hands to silence his shock, as he watched helplessly. Mariana was belittled and insulted until Clyde smacked her rear and yelled at her.

"Ándale!" Clyde mocked, as Mariana took off towards the mansion. "Useless!"

The brothers spoke poorly of Mariana calling her names that Arthur did not yet understand, but they didn't sound nice. As Arthur stayed quiet, Floyd finally changed the subject.

"Where is Annabelle?"

Hearing that, Arthur got down on his hands and knees, and ducked further back behind the bush hopping to remain hidden, as the boys bickering started again.

"Oh, now you've done it, Clyde," Floyd scolded. "You've scared the poor thing off."

"Me!" Clyde squealed. "It was your revolting face that frighten her, not me."

"Well, we need to find her," Floyd stated angrily. "Or Father will beat us black and blue."

"For once brother, you are right. Let's start at the stable."

"No, the swing she's young and she would rather play than see a pony."

"Floyd, you're talking nonsense! We're going to the stable!"

"Clyde, as the older brother, you need to listen to me and we're going to the swing."

Clyde huffed loudly, "Half an hour isn't that much older, you idiot, now if we hurry we'll find her before Father finds out you lost her."

"Fine," Floyd said, finally giving in till he gasped. "Wait, I didn't lose her this was your fault!"

The sound of wet boot hitting the gravel gave Arthur a sense of relief, as the brothers voices got softer and softer. Sighing softly, Arthur got to his feet and brushed off his hands and skirt; picking out the little pebbles that stuck to his hands. As he picked at the stones, Arthur noticed his wrists. From the tug-a-war the boys were playing with Arthur's arms, the poor boy's wrist were a bloody red, burned from the friction and slowly turning a grape shade of purple. 

As he looked at his wounds, the sound of fast approaching feet brought Arthur to his knees again.

"Boys?" It was Mariana carrying white fluffy towels in her arms, as she approached the fountain looking in every direction. "I...have towels."

Arthur spotted the young woman's cheek and it was clear she had it harder than he did. Half of her face was bruised, you could see Floyd's hand mark imprinted on her and it sent a shiver down Arthur's spine. He felt terrible, Arthur knew what a maid was, but didn't know how badly they were treated. Not realizing it, Arthur's hat was visible from behind the bush and Mariana spotted it and called out softly.

"Hello?" 

Arthur nearly jumped out of his dress when he realized he had been caught. Mariana stared at him curiously, as he tried to duck down again.

"No need for fear," She cooed with a tender smile, as she beckoned him to come forward. "Are you...lost?"

Slowly, Arthur poked his head out from behind his cover and met Mariana's shining green eyes. Mariana's smile only got bigger, as Arthur stepped out into the open.

"Hello," She greeted, as she got down on her knees. "What is your name?"

Arthur moved his golden curls that covered his face, as he let out softly, "Annabelle."

Mariana nodded and pointed at his dress, "Very beautiful."

"Thank you," He said, as moved a step in closer. "Are you okay, Miss?"

Surprisingly, she giggled, "All is well. No harm. I am happy."

Arthur didn't know how to respond, yet he did remember when he once fell out of a tree and bruised his knees, Hosea placed a cold cloth over it to stop the burning. Thinking fast, Arthur took one of the towels Mariana was carrying and turned to the fountain.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

Not responding, Arthur dipped a corner of the towel into the cold fountain water, and returned to Mariana who looked more than confused.

Arthur got on his tippy toes and placed the towel on her cheek which made her giggle more, but she pulled away, "All is okay, I am fine. No need for worry." For a quick moment Arthur could feel the heat from her cheek, he was surprised she wasn't on fire.

Gently, Mariana took the wet towel back, stood up and offered her hand to Arthur, "Are you here with mama or papa?"

Arthur's mouth fell ajar and he tried to take in the question the woman had asked him. Mariana giggled sweetly at Arthur's confused eyes, as she asked again.

"Are you here with mama or papa?"

"Papa."

"Don't worry we will find them."

She nodded and began to lead Arthur back towards the crowd which he kindly followed. Walking in silence the duo entered the crowd of long gowns and cigar clouds, Arthur looked around for that one familiar face. The guest glared at Mariana with arched brows and wicked sneers, yet she kept her smile which Arthur found incredible. 

"Now," Mariana started, as she looked down at Arthur. "What is papa wearing?"

"A black suit, white bowtie and a top hat," Arthur answered honestly, as Mariana took a quick look around, suddenly losing her smile.

Mariana mumbled something in spanish, as she tighten her grip on Arthur's hand. Unable to understand, Arthur looked around for Dutch, but everyone looked the same at that point. Arthur suddenly got nervous when he noticed the worry in Mariana's face. Dutch couldn't have gone far and where else would he be?

Mariana knelt down next to Arthur and began pointing out gentleman that matched Dutch's description, but the more Arthur said no the more the boy began to shake. As calmly as she could, Mariana rubbed Arthur's hand and gave him words of encouragement.

"No need for worry," She said. "He will be found no need to be scared."

Arthur nodded in agreement to Mariana statement, but he couldn't shake that yucky feeling in his belly. Suddenly, a thunderous roar of laughter broke over the crowd that could only belong to one man and one man only.

Dutch van der linde. Sitting at a table with a handful of posh looking men on the back porch with a cigar stuck between his teeth; from the look on his face he was more than likely telling a made up story and had that teeth showing smile printed on his face. Excited, Arthur almost forgot how to speak, but he pointed and spat out, "Papa!"

Mariana jumped at Arthur's outburst, but quickly smiled, "Thank the Lord above."

"Mariana!" A angry man barked catching the woman's attention. "Come here now!"

Quickly, Mariana patted Arthur's bottom and ushered him to go to Dutch before she hurried over to the man who was calling her.

"Bye bye," Arthur said, as he waved.

"Adios mi amigo," She said, as she waved back. "Go to papa...and hold him tight."

Standing their in the crowd, Arthur stood their puzzled for a moment till he heard Dutch laugh again. You could hear his laugh from a mile away, but getting to him would be the harder part. Squeezing past the ladies wide skirts, Arthur had trouble not tripping over his own.

One skirt actually made Arthur laugh, it was so wide you could a horse under it, but the owner of the skirt suddenly decided to take a step back and nearly push the boy over. Instantly, Arthur pushed back, but he pushed a little too hard. The women he pushed was talking to an elder lady with the biggest hat Arthur had ever seen and was holding a full glass of champagne. With a shriek the women toppled forward and spilled her entire drink on the woman in front of her who shrieked.

"How dare you, you silly girl! Do you have any idea how expensive this gown is?"

"My lady it wasn't my fault!" The woman cried, as a small crowd instantly formed. "I was push-"

Not even letting the girl finish he plea the elder woman smacked her causing the crowd to gasp in surprise.

"I'll be taking these," Suddenly, the elder woman had her hand wrapped around the girl's pearl necklace and torn it off, as if it were nothing and tossed it to the ground. "We all know those are fake!"

Stunned the young shoved the elder woman, and removed her own earrings and tossed them to the ground, "Oh you wicked old witch!"

Arthur spotted the shining jewelry and with the crowd distracted it was easy for him to bend down and snatch them up and hide them behind the ribbon around his waist. After an insult too many the two ladies began to tussle; pushing and ripping at each others accessories sending material flying in every direction. Whenever someone tried to intervene someone lost a watch or ring, bracelet, earring and such was free for Arthur's pickin'.

No one noticed the 3ft belle stealing their jewelry and he was in and out in a matter of seconds. Dutch was going to be so proud. Deciding his ribbon sash was full, Arthur squeezed through the crowd and slowly made his way to Dutch with a smile on his face. When he was free from the crowd, Arthur was gasping for air and panting for dear life. 

Upon catching his breath, Arthur headed for the stairs, but was spotted by Dutch who flew out of his chair, "Annabelle!" He cried, as the men he was chatting with looked at Arthur. "What happened to you my dear?"

Before Arthur could answer, he was swept up into Dutch's arms and carried to the table, "Oh my precious little flower," Dutch sighed, as he brushed the dirt off Arthur's skirt. "What have those boys done to you?"

Dutch gave Arthur a secretive wink which Arthur returned, as The Mayor shot up from his chair stunned, "Oh, Miss Sinclair are you alright my dear?"

"Annabelle!" In perfect sync, still damp from their dip in the fountain, Clyde and Floyd flew up the stone steps over to Arthur. "We were so worried about you. Why did you run off?"

Clyde's pants were stained with mud and he carried a foul stench, while Floyd had leafs caught in his hair. They were out of breath and red in the face; their exhaustion was almost funny.

"You silly girl," Floyd scolded, as he crossed his arms. 

"Do you realize the trouble you've caused?" Clyde barked as he copied his twin.

Not answering, Arthur forced out some crocodile tears and hid his face in Dutch's neck. Arthur could feel the growl vibrate through Dutch's neck which made him smile.

"Mr. Sinclair," The Mayor babbled with fear echoing in his tone. "I assure you my boys will be punished for this."

"I believe we're done here, sir," Dutch said coldly, as he began to walk away from the table and spat out his cigar. "My offer is off the table."

"Mr. Sinclair, please be reasonable!" The Mayor called, as he followed Dutch and Arthur. "Don't let my sons ruin the evening. We can still make our deal work."

Dutch silently, carried Arthur out of the mansion and pushed past the steel gate startling the guard who was resting against the gate. 

"Uh, have a good evening, sir," The guard yawned, as he closed the gate after them.

Dutch nodded to the guard, as Hosea came around with the carriage and swung the door open, so Dutch and Arthur could hop in. As careful as he could, Dutch put Arthur down on his seat and sat next to him, as the carriage began to move.

"Bravo, my boy bravo," Dutch laughed, as he applauded. "What a show, what a show."

Arthur laughed along, as he wiped away the few stray tears that lingered on his cheeks, "You think so?"

"Arthur that was marvelous," Dutch praised, as his hand landed on Arthur's shoulder. "Why William Shakespeare couldn't have written it better."

"Whose that?"

"I'll tell you when you're older son," Dutch chuckled, as he suddenly stuck his gloved hand into his mouth. "Hold on."

As Arthur stared in horror, Dutch pulled out a pair of drool covered ruby earrings out of his mouth and placed them into his pocket.

"Forgot about that pair," Dutch said, as he let out a cough. "Sorry about that son."

Arthur eyes were stuck open which made Dutch laugh, "Aw, Hosea is gonna kill me for tellin' you, but...The Mayor's sister isn't a loyal wife."

Arthur wasn't sure what Dutch was talking about, but when he winked that made everything okay.

Suddenly, Hosea hit a deep bump causing Arthur's ribbon to let out a metallic clicking noise that caught Dutch right off guard.

"What do you have there, son?"

With a cheek to cheek grin, Arthur dug into his ribbon and laid out his stash. Two golden pocket watches, five silver and gold bracelets with multiple jewels embedded into them, about seven pairs of earrings all different sizes and values, and that stunning pearl necklace.

Dutch's mouth fell open at the small fortune laying before him, as Arthur giggled. 

"Did I do good, Dutch?"

"Hosea!" Dutch called to his partner. "Hosea!"

"What?" Hosea answered, as their carriage crossed the bridge out of Saint Denis. "What's wrong?"

"Pull over, now!" Dutch shouted, as all colour left his face. "You're gonna want to see this!"

The carriage came to a sudden halt, as the horses whined and snorted. Hosea was quick to hop down and open the carriage down on Arthur's side.

"What is it- Good God!"

Both men were frozen in shock, as Arthur sat there with a proud smile on his face. Hosea looked at Dutch and Dutch looked a Hosea.

"Arthur," Hosea mumbled, as he looked down at Arthur. "Did you do this?"

The look of shock on his adoptive father's slowly made Arthur's smile disappear, "Are you not happy?" Arthur asked, as he turned to Dutch. "Are you angry?"

"Of course not, son," Dutch chuckled, as he removed his hat and wiped his sweaty brow. "I...I'm so proud of you."

Hosea grabbed Arthur's shoulders and gave them a tender squeeze, "We're so proud of you, Arthur."

Arthur's smile made a fast return, as the older men chuckled continued to praise Arthur for his work.

"What are we gonna do with the money, Dutch?" Arthur asked, as he grabbed onto Dutch's arm. "What are we gonna do?"

"Have you ever heard of a place called, Tahiti, son?"


End file.
